"Well, this wasn't a railroad accident, nor one caused by falling bricks or timber," Bart retorted. "I guess it will come under the head of machinery. A gun's machinery, I s'pose. But I can testify to the shock. Wow!" and, as a sudden spasm of pain seized him, he snatched his hand from the grasp of his sister and again began dancing around on one leg. "Hold still! How can I treat the wound if you jerk around that way?" demanded Alice. "Treat the wound! You aren't treating any wound!" retorted Bart. "I could treat ten wounds in that time! All you're doing is talk! If Fenn Masterson or Ned Wilding was here they'd have a rag around this long ago." "Yes, and it would probably be full of germs and other things and you'd be dead of lock-jaw," said Alice calmly. "Now Bart, come here. I know what kind of a wound it is, and I must see how to fix it," and once more securing her brother's hand for examination, she began to leaf over the book. "'Treatment,'" she read. "'Cleanse the wound thoroughly with warm water, lay a wet cloth over it and bandage lightly. If symptoms of shock are present they must receive careful attention. See page twenty-two.'" "Never mind the shock, just get a rag on these fingers before I lose all the blood I've got and we'll talk shock afterward," interrupted Bart. Then Alice, laying aside her book, brought some warm water in a basin, and some soft cloths, and soon had Bart's hand tied up in a sling. "You've got enough rags on here to make my hand look as big as my head," objected the boy, as he gazed at the bandage his sister had adjusted. "You don't want to catch cold in it," she replied. "It is very chilly to-day. I think we're going to have more snow." "Ought to have some, with Thanksgiving here in about a week," replied Bart. "How did you get hurt?" asked his sister again. "I was examining my new shotgun. It just came--Hark! Who's that calling?" "Oh, some of the boys I s'pose," and Alice went to the window and looked down to the street, whence came a series of shrill whistles. "Raise the window and I'll yell to 'em to come up," said Bart. "Don't you come near this window," commanded Alice. "You forget you're under treatment. If you should catch cold in that hand it might be terrible! I'll call the boys. You go back in that corner." Then, as Bart meekly obeyed, Alice raised the sash and called: "Come up, boys! Bart is hurt and can't come down!" "They'll think I'm in bed," her brother objected. A few seconds later there sounded the noise of several feet on the stairs. A moment afterward three lads hurried into the room. They had just come from school, but Bart had not attended the afternoon session. "Hello Frank!" cried Bart. "Howdy, Stumpy? How are you, Ned?" "What's the matter?" asked Ned, noticing the bandage on Bart's hand. "Oh, hurt myself with the gun. Went off before I was ready." "The gun!" exclaimed Frank. "Got a new gun?" asked Fenn. "Let's see it," demanded Ned.